Interview countdown.

I have my second interview with the Seattle Fire Department tomorrow morning. My nerves are killing me. I've been studying, but it seems like it's such a shot in the dark. I prepare for questions that they may ask, but I won't know the questions until I'm sitting in front of the panel. And by then my throat will be tight and my palms will be sweating up a storm. I hope I can feel the way I did last time. I was super nervous but felt comfortable with the questions and was able to answer them all fully (more or less) and used my time well. I'm not sure if tomorrow will be more of the same but I hope so. I think the pool of candidates is still enormous though so I imagine they'll want to make some decent cuts with this round of interviews. None of us know our score on the initial interview so I don't know if I'm hanging by a thread or if I did decent on round one. It's going to be a killer to wait until June to find out. But, I bet I'll have a decent idea after my interview if I bombed it or not.

So, I'm going to go ponder some more on why I want to be a firefighter and what my strengths and weaknesses are. It's the way I like to spend my mornings lately.

Friday, Saturday, Today.

Friday was a good day. Alec and I woke up in Port Townsend and I went on a birthday run with Dad, from his house, down to the mill and then we ran part way back and walked the rest of the way. Then, we went out for coffee and got ingredients to make Dad waffles with real whipped cream and fresh strawberries. Al made tofu scramble and vegan pancakes for herself. Then I had to get my fishing license and we went for a very short walk on the beach before we had to head back to Seattle for the Mariner's game. At one point I had my fishing license, a jar of wild huckleberry honey, and two cartons of local eggs on the floor of Al's car and I asked her if that was okay since it was very un-vegan. She has a good sense of humor about it all. I think she is annoyed by my eating habits but I think she is making herself not say stuff. We had a really great time together, talking the whole way there and the whole way home. I miss spending time with her. I would like to see her more. We had a good time at the M's game but they lost and it was really cold for the last chunk of the game. And now Dad is officially 60 years old. He does not seem it. I would also like to see him more. And Poodle.

Molly and I started Saturday in a flurry. I lost my keys (still haven't found them) so we ended up leaving the dogs at home since I was planning on leaving them in the back of my truck while we were fishing. That made us both feel pretty guilty but we gave them fresh bones that still had the tendons attached. Sick. But, they were still going strong when we got home. Fishing was really fun. It's the first time I've intended to kill something. But, I've always wanted to learn how to fish. When I was a kid, this nice big guy that looked over my great grandma (Little Grandma) always told me he'd take me out. We never went but I spent a lot of time behind her house, squatting by the creek, watching the salmon spawn in the fall. I like the time spent fishing and I like the company of family and the idea of one act getting one meal taken care of. It seems like food is so complicated now. Lots of our food has dozens of ingredients, from dozens of different places, moved all around the world and eventually packaged into some type of calories that can spend years on a shelf. That seems more harmful than the killing of one creature that's spent it's life free. I caught a fish after Eric cast my line for me. It landed right near a raft, probably a good spot for some fish. The first bite was so exciting. But, Eric was distracted helping Isabella (she's three) reel her first fish in. Kevin ended up helping me get the hook out of his stomach. It was grossing me out but I didn't want to look like a puss in front of everyone and I knew that fish was done for since he'd pretty much swallowed the hook. He was a big guy, a holdover from last year. Eric keeps the fish on a creel until he's ready to bring them up to the cabin to clean. Most of them were still alive so I had this nagging guilt knowing my fish was on a gill leash until he'd be sliced open. And, then, of course, I caught another one. At that time Eric was out in the rowboat, taking Isabella around the lake. So Diana tried to get the hook out with that tool. She felt too bad. I tried but couldn't be rough enough to get the job done. So, Molly manned up and got it done. Then we stuck him on the creel and I called it a day. I did pull a dead trout off the bottom of the lake. He looked like he had died very recently, eyes were still clear and he wasn't stiff yet. So, I stuck him on his own creel because I felt bad dropping him next to the couple trout that were still alive. When Eric finally gutted them he didn't stun them first. I think I'll do that the next time I fish. I think a toy baseball bat would work well. It was a good day though. We ate Subway on the way home. Molly dipped while I was talking to my dad on the phone and almost puked. Then we planned the chicken coop, let the chickens and the dogs run around the yard, and then came in and watched Juno.

Now, it's today. We have a big day ahead of us. We need to rotate the coop, put a back and a floor on, put the windows in and the roof on. Then, we need to put up the run. We'll see how it all turns out but I think it will look nice when we're all wrapped up. I'll try and take a picture to post since I never do that sort of thing.

too much

When I feel overwhelmed by my life I tend to turn to the most accessible resource that's the least likely to actually change my behavior: Google. A while ago I had found some lists (my favorite kind of resource) that number off good habits to improve your quality of life. At times where is seems there a mess at every turn, I really appreciate these lists. It's a way to window shop my way out of taking responsibility for the chaos I chose to live in. But, I wish I had the consistency and the determination to actually enact some of these things. I like living in Lake City because I feel removed from some of the madness of the city. But, I tend to pile on an extra of helping of madness every couple months or so, like cramming a big slice of chocolate cake into my mouth when I'm already full.

100 Miles.

I am reading Plenty, a book about a Vancouver couple who decide to eat only food that comes from within 100 miles of their house, for one year. I'm only up to May so far but it's really interested. I did a final project for a class on thoughtfulness in eating. I spent two days, one eating the cheapest food I could find on sale at Safeway, and the other making that same food from scratch with ingredients I bought from a farmer's market. I enjoyed the time spent shopping and preparing the meals that took longer. There's no way I could afford that type of lifestyle though. Now, reading this couple's experience, I'd be interested to try something like this for a more sustained period of time. It would be super challenging. There are three farmers markets that are in my normal radius of travel, one being in Lake City. We got our first box of produce today from New Roots Organics, although only a couple items were marked as being local. It's still pretty sparse. Two weeks ago, the farmers market had mostly potatoes, jams, eggs, meats, baked goods, flowers, etc... not a ton of fresh produce. But, spring is getting closer every day. This is the first year I've really noticed it as it happens but stuff is blooming like crazy over the past couple weeks. On Friday the yard was covered with super confident dandelions and the lilac bush outside our bedroom window finally bloomed a couple days ago. There's a tree that I can't identify that had a bunch of small white flowers yesterday. And the bush outside our gate finally came back from the whacking Molly gave it last summer. Apparently it blooms as well and should smell pretty good. The rose outside the mudroom window went crazy after Molly pruned it, now it's sprawling all over the side of the house, over the deck railing. And our sad little flower garden in the front even has a few flowers popping open, since that nice sunny day on Saturday. And, not to keep going on and on, but I will, the herbs in our old veggie patch remembered they're alive and shot up recently.

I saw the farm down the street from my mom's house has a pasture full of lambs now.

It's only a matter of time before the asparagus is here. Although, I cheated and had some California asparagus from Central Market last week.

So, we'll see where this goes. I think I'll finish their book first.

a wedding and a square dance.

My step-sister got married on Saturday. It was a good wedding, small, the first beautiful day of spring. I got to spend the day re-filling my plastic cup of beer and talking to my family, which is a great way to spend any portion of a day, let alone the whole thing. Kristen's husband is a good guy. They are moving to North Carolina next month since he's in the Air Force. She seems stoked for the move. I think she's looking forward to a change of scenery. Even though he seems like a really solid guy I hope she doesn't lose herself in the relationship. She needs to remember that the reason they loved each other enough to get married is because he likes the person she is. I think when you are removed from your family and from the place you know you might become more dependent on what you do know. So, here's to Kristen learning, messing up, achieving, and loving in her new life.

I also like Derrick because he let me start up his new truck, even though I was two sheets to the wind. I think I shouted with joy when it growled to life. I was wasted. And in love with that truck.

We made my sister stop at a mini mart for dip and beer. I have no idea why I bought that beer. It was not something I needed. And when we got back to my Mom's we arrived to a note saying that our four horses had got lose and were corralled in the neighbor's pasture. Apparently it was the neighbor with which my mom and her fiance have a pending lawsuit over an easement. I think Molly and I left the gate open when we left the pasture so it was our bad. When we were going to round up the horses Charlie took off, like the d-bag he can so often be. So, we're out there, shitty as hell, calling for our douche of a dog and trying to listen for the sound of hooves, out on Saratoga Road. Bill snapped at me and told me to put the dogs on leashes and I envisioned punching him in the face, but just snapped back instead and did not leash my dog. Suzy was fine, I told her to find the horses and she found the right pasture, smart little snot. And Charlie came back. We haltered up the horses (luckily other family members had remembered halters and leads because I'm not sure how I was planning on getting the horses back). I was feeling surly and kept ramming my shoulder into Maddie when I was walking her back. She's a huge horse and can step all over me but I was too drunk to back down and kept hurling myself at her whenever she'd get in my space. It seemed to work. And the inevitable happened when my mom reminded me that she had the ability to care for Jewel and Megan but that Maddie and Cleo were simply too much. I snapped at her (my mode of operation that night, clearly) and then went to bed crying myself to sleep. Not my proudest moment.

Anyway, last night we went to a square dance at the Tractor. I wonder why I get so damn irritated by a bar in the heart of Ballard (Scenester/Yuppie Nation) that seems like it belongs in Appalachia. Not the people. It was cool to see old guys stompin' it up and the band was awesome. But, there were some people who I swear had just visited Value Village (or probably Red Light or Buffalo Exchange) to pick out the ugliest checkered dress or cowgirl boots just for the square dance. Maybe. But, I have to admit, I didn't have the guts to get up there and dance so I'm just backseat driving something that other people are actually doing. Having said that, apparently there is a contra and old time country dance up here in Lake City on Thursday nights. I would like to go to that.

new stinky family member.

There's a new creature in the family: Tiger Lily. That's what Molly named her new kitten. She is ten weeks old and has some serious flatulence. She is a fearless, farting little motor boat (her purring end, not the other). Buster is less of a fan than we are but she's bound to grow on him. He was once this kitten to Molly Cat. So, karma's a bitch.

And I wonder about what's happening with us, as people you know. My lifetime feels like a gas tank. The first quarter tank goes by slowly but I think the tank must be tapered because each quarter goes by faster than the last. Even minutes seem faster. It must be because the details don't seem to matter as much when you are just able to pile more and more on. Nowadays there are more details to ignore and a growing of history of ignored details to compound the incentive for ignoring them in the first place. The cracks in the sidewalk are not as big a deal as they used to be. I'm already thinking about tomorrow. What workout I'll do. What we'll have for dinner. If work will pass by quick or slow. It's so presumptuous, that tomorrow is even an option. But, I always assume it is. I don't want to be that debbie downer that is championing "the moment" because you never know what will happen next. But, you'd think I would have learned by now that stuff never works out as planned. This is sometimes good, and sometimes disastrous.

But why is it that whenever you decide to carpe diem it up that you just end up drunk, on a couch, watching a movie? You sure are seizing something, but I'm not sure it's the day. And, maybe I'm just too type A, but how do you best seize the day without a plan for seizing it? Going with the flow has never been my strong suit. I really enjoy structure, being told what to do, ordered even, yelled at, just let me know and it'll get done and done well. But, when I have free rein to order myself around I'll be like on of those damn automatic vacuums stuck in a corner. You'll be able to eat off that square foot of floor but the rest of the house will have gone back to nature.

And, I'm still stuck at my crossroads. Don't think for a moment that I don't already have a plan prepared for tomorrow. I have the month of April mapped out. But, I'm stuck with my severe inclination to break the mold. But, I think I only like doing that so I can create a new one. It's my pattern, the way I've been whittling away the past six years or so, maybe more.

And things always get done. I've accomplished a fair amount. And I don't (always) regret that I could have accomplished more had I been able to break free of my own self-imposed structure. I did what I did and why challenge the past? What's done is done. But, am I supposed to worry about what's not done? I don't think so. I do. And I'm not always sure I should. I know I'm not supposed to, says everybody. But, the reality is too tempting. Always that sexy blank sheet.